By Special Delivery
by Clare bear 48
Summary: "I was born on a ship somewhere 'tween England and America. I don't know where. I don't even know the name of the ship. Honest."


By Special Delivery

**Disclaimer I do not own the characters from Dr. Quinn Medicine Woman. The rights to those characters and to the show belong to the creators of the show, to CBS, The Sullivan Company and to A&E.**

The middle aged man with grey hair dressed in an immaculate navy blue jacket with shiny brass buttons and white bell bottom trousers, a peaked cap jammed down on his head looked up from the manifesto saying, "Next." He looked down the overcrowded gang plank onto the busy wharf. Carriages with irate horses, men toting baggage, others with trolley's loaded with goods, people of all shapes and sizes as well as wealth jostled around. The smell of the salt and sea prevailed everywhere and the noise of vendors trying to sell their wares. The noisy sounds of horses, dogs and people were not unusual on the crowded docks as they prepared for departure. This time they would be sailing with a full complement of passengers and cargo, heading to New York. The sailors were making ready to unfurl the sails as they shoved off from the wharf yelling orders as they climbed the three masks and out on the yard arms in preparation, large coils of rope hung from the wooden pegs on the side of the ship. The brass bell that served as a change of shift was so shiny you could see your face in it. Then there was the large wooden wheel for steering the ship near the large compass glistening as well Mr Percy was proud to be employed as purser of this magnificent sailing ship.

"Mr and Mrs Patrick Sully," came a reply as he watched a couple in their early thirties and a boy step forward, the man offering their passage tickets which he thrust on a nail spike nearby.

Running his finger down the passenger log book to the next empty lines he began writing, *Patrick Sully*, saying, "Occupation?"

"Farmer," the solidly built man with brown wavy hair and amazing blue eyes responded.

"Literate?"

"Pardon?" Patrick asked.

Slowly as if he was speaking to a child the purser said, "Do you read and write?"

Embarrassed Patrick dropped his eyes to the deck, scuffing the toe of his boot on the deck and answered, "No sir."

"Age?" the purser did not hesitate with his next question as he followed the line across the passenger ledger.

"Twenty nine."

Raising his brow slightly he thought he looked a lot older before continuing, "How much money are you carrying?"

"Ten pounds, five shillings and sixpence," Patrick responded knowing they had used most of their savings and the money they had earned selling the farm on the passage to the new country.

Looking up now, the purser looked at the woman who accompanied Mr Sully. She was pretty but looked exhausted, holding tightly to the hand of a small boy of about four years of age. He had calf length pants held up by braces and a woollen shirt. His boots, like his father's were worn and scuffed; his hair was a dark blonde and he had his mothers brown eyes. She was with child and he hoped she and the infant would make the rough crossing. Many a women perished going into labour in the bowels of the tossing ship. She had been a beauty he thought, long brown hair and large brown eyes surrounded by long black lashes. Her skin was tanned as if she had been in the sun, but she had been pretty he decided.

"Name?"

"Catherine Sully," she softly replied, placing her hand on her extended abdomen as the baby inside gave her a huge kick.

"Occupation?" But noting her present condition he guessed she was unable to do any manual labour.

"Farmer's wife," she responded, smiling at her husband trying to convey her love for him. She knew he was concerned at the prospect of taking this huge step into their unknown future. She had convinced him they needed to do this for their children. Although she was Welsh she had encouraged him to sell their small farm near the Welsh border when the Government set up toll posts changing farmers taxes and tolls when they travelled the roads into and around Wales. They were creating trouble and vigilantes were going around threatening the officials.Their leaders and most of their supporters wore women's white dresses, along with their faces blackened for further disguise and the gangs of protesters were known as Rebecca's Daughters (Merched Beca in Welsh). Catherine had been afraid that Patrick in his frustration would join them; some men who had already been arrested had been deported to Van Dieman's Land. She worried that her children may grow up without a Pa hence she had encouraged him to sell their small farm to the local Land Lord and spend the money on the passage to a new and hopefully brighter future in the New England called America. They were headed to New York.

The purser skipped over the next question as she waited, until he went on to ask her age.

"Excuse me sir, but I can read and write," she said before telling him she was twenty six. Watching as he put a line through the word illiterate and wrote in its place *reads and writes*.

Meekly she looked at him and said, "Thank you sir."

She told him she had no money after he looked enquiringly at her, thinking to himself she would be a fiery one to handle.

Looking at the child who now clung to the back of his mother's skirt he asked, "And the child?"

"This is William. We call him Billy and he is four," she answered adding *sir* at the end. She did not want him to know his Welsh name which was Gwillyn. She called him Gwil.

The purser looked up and checking their luggage they had two large carpet bags and there were two accompanying trunks they had tickets for, already stowed in the hold. He added these to the manifesto luggage four items.

Without looking up again he said, "Steerage to your left. Next."

Patrick scooped his son up in his arm and with the other hand he picked up one of the large bags as he followed his wife who was waddling off in front of him, struggling with the other bag.

Catherine had encouraged him to move to London after seeing an advertisement in the paper stating:

FOR NEW YORK

To Sail 25th April **  
**The fine fast sailing ship BRUNSWICK, Robert BLAKE commander, burthen 500 tons, lying in the London Dock - has excellent accommodation for Cabin and Steerage passengers. Steerage Passage for adults Five pounds and for all children under 14 years of age half price - For passage apply to James Chapman, No.2 Principal Entrance, London Dock, London.

She still had about six weeks to eight weeks to go before delivering their next child, and she was sure that she would have their planned daughter in their new home. The voyage was supposed to last just over four weeks.

Their accommodation had a ceiling height of approximately seven feet in their between-deck steerage compartment. Patrick was five feet eleven inches, a tall man by the normal standards of the time and felt his head would touch the ceiling. All the bunks were made of rough boards and were set up along both sides of the ship. They were lucky, they travelled the way the ship was travelling, known as fore to aft. They heard of other ships that had bunks facing into the centre and people being horribly sick as they were thrown around more in storms, some suffering serious injuries. There was only a narrow corridor to walk down between the fixtures. The bunks were supposed for three to six people to sleep in and called family bunks. Patrick located one without anyone on it and settled Catherine and William. There was a steady stream of people entering the large room and as it filled Catherine's eyes grew even larger, frightened they would be forced to share. Sitting there she watched Patrick, who was silently praying they wouldn't have to do it for it would make his lovely wife's discomfort all the more unbearable she had grown larger the past week and he knew she was uncomfortable already. His head nearly touched the ceiling as he sat, looking at William who was exhausted and began to nod off to sleep. His head was resting in his mother's lap as she stroked his blonde hair.

They had heard the best position was in the middle, but those bunks had been taken even before they entered so they were a little more towards the front. He knew this caused passengers greater discomfort in rough seas, but he didn't dare confide this to his wife. They were fortunate though not to have another bunk bed above them, as the later passengers were forced to go there cramping the conditions even further. Their mattress was stuffed full of straw. They had brought their own small pillows, blankets and other necessary bedclothes. Some even had brought along with them animal hides. Catherine was concerned after hearing some sources report that lice and fleas thrived in this environment; they caused sores that if infected took a long time to clear up.

Patrick fussed around, settling his family. The sound of waves lapping at the sides of the masked ship and the slight roll were already making both his wife and child feel sick.

"Ya' all right?" he asked as she looked more and more uncomfortable. He had not told Catherine that he was convinced their baby would be born soon as he refused to burden her with more worry especially from him. He knew deep down that she knew he'd been on the verge of joining Rebecca's Daughters and so she had begged him to leave their home. Some of his friends were already convicts, and he saw in her eyes her fear when she discovered she was carrying his second child. Patrick hated injustice and the government was bleeding them all dry, sending many to the poor house with their demands for more and more taxes. Farmers did not earn a great deal, and if a crop failed because there was disease then they earned nothing. They were surviving only on what their acreage provided.

Forcing a weak smile, Catherine nodded. Nausea would now be her constant companion for quite awhile. William fared no better and Patrick would always be running to the closet with him until he finally settled days later.

For the women and children in steerage an enclosed water closet was provided for toileting, but this did not assist Catherine as the space was confined and in her condition made moving around restricted. It was generally flushed by a bucket of sea water or from a manually operated tank of seawater. This one had a bucket. During the early days of their voyage the conditions and coping with sea sickness was very difficult for them and many others on the trip. Patrick and the other men used the ship's heads that was the bow of the ship and on the lee (or sheltered) side of the ship: exposed and unsafe in rough weather.

It was already stuffy and revoltingly smelly as there was little ventilation which was difficult in the ship; they were told that the hatches could only be opened in good weather. Being farmers they had been out doors most of their lives so these conditions became unbearable.

In anything other than good weather the hatches were kept sealed to prevent water getting below decks. Patrick was told that this would be trouble for the passengers. Lighting was also going to be a problem: oillamps were used only between certain hours and were very carefully tended: they were in a wooden ship and the risk of fire was extremely high. Coupled with the cramped, ill-lit and poorly ventilated accommodation for the steerage passengers was the lack of fresh drinking water, of food and its preparation and availability to toilet and washing facilities. All of these left much to be desired by the young mother.

Many times the family would wonder if it had been such a good idea to travel and leave the safety of their home for a better future. Then memories of the past few years surfaced and they once again looked forward to a much brighter future.

Catherine tried to be brave as they left land fall behind, simple things like walking or laying became challenging as her condition and the weight of her unborn infant tended to leave her unbalanced. Hence she staggered rather than walked a few steps. Patrick hovering and catching her on several occasions he was rewarded with her happy smile that lit up her whole face, even reaching her eyes. His response was a smile that was a reflection of her own, both marvelling at the love they shared.

They were only allowed on deck for short periods of time as the first class passengers had full access to it. She gingerly ascended the ladders that lead her up stairs and she would sit near the hatch and watch as young women in fine coloured dresses with parasols paraded back and forth. Their hair up in pins without any being out of place, she fingered her own plait and knew she did not have the energy to do anything else with it. Men in long coats with colourful cravats tied at their throats with expensive stones pinned in the lush silks and top hats carrying canes were doing exactly the same. Children in fine clothes ran around as frazzled nannies tried keeping control. Patrick had a hard time keeping Billy from running off to play with them, although there were a lot of children in the steerage section he was a quiet lad and tended to keep close to his parents. Many folk promenading on the deck scornfully caste her a look as if to question why a woman heavily pregnant would be seen out in public, generally they remained confined but Catherine needed fresh air even though the swell of the ocean caused the ship to continually roll and list from side to side, making her nauseated all over again. The small family enjoyed these times of freedom from the confines of their space in steerage, Catherine telling her son stories handed down through the family about their history. The sea air brought colour back into their pallid cheeks.

Her gaze would occasionally search the ocean seeing the white capped waves. Dolphins raced in front of the hull surfing the wash wave that it created, offering some relief for the passengers. She dreamed of their future in the new country that was sure to be better than the misery that was their life back in England. She loved Patrick with all her heart and she knew he loved her and she would do all in her power to keep her small family safe. As he strode towards her holding his son's hand his blue eyes only ever looking at her lovingly, shone. He was a good man. She thought of the men at home who frequented the ale houses and abused their wives like her sister Helen, being one with a large family to care for. Catherine knew she was lucky and had never had to be concerned as her husband was as solid as a rock, true and steady. She hoped her son would turn out the same, someday tenderly looking at Gwil.

A long wooden bench with fixed seating ran down the centre between the bunks. Here all their meals were served and any other tasks were carried out. The basic shipboard diet was salt meats (beef and pork), bread, pease (lentils and other legumes) and oatmeal. There was little in the way of fresh food, especially fruit and vegetables, which they were accustom to having since they had had a small orchard on their farm. All food was cooked in a common galley: getting the food safely down to the passenger quarters was a task in itself, particularly if the weather was rough and the small ship being tossed like a cork in heavy seas.

Fresh water was for drinking only; for personal hygiene and washing a bucket of seawater was drawn up from the ocean, which left a hardened salty residue on the skin.

Shipboard health was another issue for them to cope with. There was a surgeon aboard, but the care he would be able to provide was often very limited, particularly if there was to be a shipboard epidemic. He spent a great deal of time looking after the needs of first class passengers or mending broken limbs of the crew who fell from masts, or from falling on the slippery deck. There were few remedies for the common diseases around then. In case of severe illness there was very little opportunity to place a patient in isolation. They had heard of measles aboard ships that was deadly and the cause of many deaths among the children; along with cholera, typhoid and dysentery. These could be brought aboard through tainted water, and the disease would spread in the unhealthy crowded conditions.

Catherine had heard from other women passengers that childbirth was yet another problem, and one that posed the greatest risk for both mother and child. There was no midwife employed aboard the ship, and the surgeon would be consulted only as a last resort. Although she was afraid she refused to contemplate this child being born and dying at sea. She was assured that other women would assist as they could in the delivery, for which the only privacy would be a blanket screen. She was informed the odds of the child surviving the voyage were 50-50; infantile death was accepted very much as the norm. Seeing her condition they all had something to say. Stoking her protruding belly she whispered to her unborn infant, "You must wait, you hear me? We want you so bad." The baby answered by heaving in its cocoon. Smiling she took that as a good sign.

Days swirled into weeks that alternated in good weather where they could go up on the deck, others on end inclement and unbearable as they were forced to remain down below. It was wearing on the small family. They became acquainted with other travelers and this bided the time. They came from all corners of the country Scots, Welsh and English. The majority were Irish as a famine of potatoes was killing hundreds and they were fleeing to all the new colonies. There were scores just like themselves escaping the crippling taxes and government control.

Patrick played cards and other games like, _Two Up_ to while away the time. The men became a close knit group; he especially grew close to Daniel Boone from Ireland. Many carried musical instruments and the evenings were made lively by songs of old and new ones invented on the spot by talented musicians. Many spoke of the sea or were laments to the old country that England was now referred to. "Speed Bonny Boat" was one that became a favourite.

Billy, who had a cough would play with the other children spinning tops or drawing with chalk on his slate that Catherine had packed for him or he played with his wooden horse and cart that his Pa had carved for him. Catherine reclined on their bunk planning on things she would do in the new country or talk to the others. Her friendship included Beth Long another woman who was from Wales and Isabelle Hall who was from England. These women spent a great deal of time with the soon-to be mother. She carried a poetry book but the light was too poor to be read two of her favourites:Lord Byron's poems "She Walks in Beauty**"**, and "When We Two Parted".

Patrick would recite into her ear at night.

"She walks in beauty, like the night  
Of cloudless climes and starry skies;  
And all that's best of dark and bright  
Meet in her aspect and her eyes:  
Thus mellow'd to that tender light  
Which heaven to gaudy day denies."

He kissed her tenderly and told her of his love for her. Smiling she reaffirmed her devotion to him and would snuggle closer, entwining her fingers with his and giving them a squeeze. Many times she moved their hands so he could feel their baby moving in her stomach.

Within a week and a half they would be at land fall of New York. There was less sea sickness now. Those who were sick seemed to improve bar for one sad individual. He was wrapped in cloth and taken up top by some of the men and the sailors. After a brief service they tilted the board as the body was committed to the deep. The men came back in a sober mood, all acutely aware that any one of them could end up the same way.

That night Patrick as usual used his own body to stabilize Catherine against the bulk head. She lay on her side and their precious bundle leaning over his hip and stomach. She used him as a big pillow. He felt and marveled at each and every movement he felt, the baby tossed and turned, kicked and stretched. He could nearly identify each and every move the baby made. He was wondering what it would feel like having that occur within your own body. He often caressed this most precious child, hoping upon hope that he would be healthy and just be able to survive as infant mortality was less than a guarantee. Their own brothers and sisters had had many children die at birth or within the first few years of birth. Robert, his brother had lost twins and another out of their five children; Anna, one sister had lost one and nearly her own life. The complications had been so severe she'd never have any children anymore. Catherine's sister Helen had lost one while pregnant, and it was thought that could have easily been due to her drunken husband laying his hand on her. Feeling young Billy who was snuggled into his back Patrick said a silent thank you in prayer. He and Catherine had whispered well into the night after the man had died. She wanted to know what had occurred at the service as women stayed below.

"Katie," as he would sometimes call her, "Ya don' wanna know."

"Please Pat," using her nickname for him she pleaded.

So he explained what had happened: as the plank had been raised and the wrapped body slid from underneath the sheet and plopped into the sea disappearing all together under the waves. Felling her shiver he gently encircled her and hushed her fears.

"I don't want that happening to any of us," she sobbed.

"It won'." he reassured her.

"Promise."

With a shaky voice he said, "I promise. I won' let it."

A few days later they again managed to get deck side and relished the sun shine. Catherine leaned back and stretched her tired back. Suddenly things began to change. The wind began whipping at the large canvas sails, the flapping of the canvas making a loud noise. A man way up in the crow's nest whistled on his tin whistle a warning that a big storm was fast approaching as people scrambled for cover. The deck was becoming wet and slippery as Catherine and Patrick who was carrying Billy finally began descending down the ladder. Water spraying down the hold as well. Patrick wanted to go first to steady his wife but a sailor held him back.

"Ladies first," he growled.

He yelled at her to be careful but his voice was whipped away on the wind as he clasped the boy closer to his body protecting him from the torrent of water now lashing them from the sea and rain. The ship heaved as a wave hit the side full force, rising it out the water to go crashing down into the hollow between the huge waves.

Then his blood chilled as he heard a scream from the hold. Shoving the sailor aside he looked down to see his beloved wife a crumpled heap on the wet floor. Taking the rungs at an incredible speed he was kneeling next to her as people told him she had slipped and fell when the ship heaved.

"Stop fussing," she insisted as he helped her rise from the floor. As soon as she stood her eyes grew enormous then she looked down at the growing puddle forming under her on the floor. "Oh no!" she cried.

"What is it?" her concerned husband asked.

"My water has just broke...it's too soon," she began to cry.

He assisted her to stand and led her to their bunk, young Billy concerned that his Ma was crying.

The tense hours began as Catherine began having contractions. The women were hovering around like bees at a hive while the men and children moved away in the large area as far as they could get. Someone offered to relieve Patrick of Billy who was confused by everything. He knew something bad was happening to his Ma as his Pa was pacing back and forth, stopping and looking at their bunk every time his Ma screamed.

Her screams pierced the still air and Patrick was held back from running to her, being told men didn't interfere with the birth. Tears started to stream down his face. What if the baby didn't make it? What if she died as it was too early? He couldn't stand the pain if that happened: she was his life and he hers. Gwil needed his Ma and he needed his wife. The hours ticked by into the night. Catherine was bathed in sweat and she was getting weaker calling for Patrick as the contractions progressed and got stronger, and one melted into another unceasing.

Finally Patrick broke free and fled to the bunk and supported her, whispering to her not to give up as he loved her more than his own life. He was crooning into her ear to try and get through this and be there for the baby They had discussed this as she felt certain she'd have a girl a pigeon pair. He had said the way it kicked it would be a footy player so it had to be a boy. "Remember this little one had kept me awake at night for weeks," he reminded her. Someone came down to douse the lights to the squalls of the passengers saying they could not be in the dark. As he doused all bar two lamps it got darker and darker. Gwil stayed sitting with the other family until finally he fell asleep and his large eyes closed as he still faced the bunk that had been their home for four weeks.

As Catherine became weaker and weaker Patrick began to panic. The ship was tossing and rolling in an unfriendly way. There was talk of fetching the surgeon then talk of his cutting her baby out arose. Silence fell like a cloak of darkness as everyone knew that neither mother nor child would make it. Then all of a sudden she revived, determined to get this child out and make sure that it survived to see the new land. She had had a vision of two bundles being caste into the ocean on a plank No! This was not how her life was to end in a watery grave.

Finally the women became excited as the head crowned and everyone yelling. "Push!"

Beth and Isabella were there assisting, and Patrick helped her sit up a little. Finally the head emerged and panting, she took another big breath and out slid a perfect little baby. Everyone stood silently waiting as the seconds ticked by. More time was slipping by and then finally Beth slapped the newborn's bottom. A squeal pierced the air as everyone took a breath for this baby that represented a new beginning for all of them. Patrick kissed and kissed Catherine's hair. He cried openly with relief. An exhausted but elated Catherine put her arms up to receive the wrapped child looking at the white-creamy covered baby with wrinkled skin and dark hair plastered to its head. It had dark fine hairs covering its body. Then it looked at her as she looked straight at its large blue eyes.

"Look Pat, she has your eyes." She said beaming.

"No honey, take another look," Patrick advised.

As she peeled back the covers she discovered she had given him another son to carry on the Sully name.

"What do you want to call him, ya not disappointed are ya?" he asked concerned she would be upset.

"Byron, after Lord Byron the poet. And no, he is beautiful." She sighed as she melted looking at her new son, the image of his handsome father.

"Byron Sully, I like that," Patrick softly replied, He would have agreed to anything at that instant relieved that both were safe right now.

The next few days were a blur, Gwil met Byron, and Catherine put him to her breast feeding him. He looked strong even though he was small.

Patrick was congratulated on his good fortune as he kissed his wife and took his new son to meet people. He was hugging the child to himself, over whelmed at his new offspring kissing him and telling him of his love for him. Catherine made good progress and everyone felt they had contributed that night with prayers and wishes to fill a bucket to have them both survive.

Finally the sailing ship Brunswick birthed at the wharf in New York as Catherine holding Byron, Patrick and William descended the gang plank Catherine held her child into the air, "Look Byron, we are in your new country for a new and happy beginning," she said. Nobody knew what was in store for the family as Patrick kissed his lovely wife and baby scooping his eldest child onto his shoulders as they ventured into the unknown.

The end.

A/N I have used my knowledge on tall sailing ships. My daughter was a participant in the tall ships sailing race around the world. She met youth from around the world and the Polish sailors on their training ship Dar Mlodziezy, and many more. My grandson has sailed on the Endeavour (A replica built here at the port, true to size (he said the quarters were cramped and they slept in hammocks and his legs dangled over the sides)) a training ship from Fremantle in Western Australia.

I knew of the conditions that early settlers had to endure as coming to Australia was far more arduous. An ancestor lost twins on voyage here.

The Rebecca's Daughters existed and many where transported to the penal colonies.

The Irish Famine is a fact also and the Quinn's from my husband's ancestry joined as Red Coats (army/police, rather than starve) and travelled to Australia and served in Van Dieman's Land before coming to Western Australia.

The log of passengers is as accurate as I can remember looking at ours travelling here.

Reviews and comment are gratefully received, thank you for reading.


End file.
